Leaving The Nest
by Military Mechanic
Summary: Lightstep has always been a worrier, and maybe that's why she's so protective of her kits. Why she is willing to give up anything and everything to keep them safe - even when they are strong and grown and should by all rights be looking after themselves. She will die for them if need be, forever and always. warriors challenge forum story


Queen: Lightstep: beautiful pale tortoiseshell she-cat with dark green eyes

Lighstep is a constant worry-wart. She worries for her mate, her kits, her Clan, everything. But she always means well. She loves her kits and her mate with her whole heart and would do absolutely anything for them, even if it meant selling her soul to the Dark Forest. She isn't the best of fighters, but can she hunt. She is silent by nature and has sharp eyes and ears.

Mate: Barkclaw: brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

"How are they, Feathershine?" the words leave Barkclaw's maw even before the medicine cat has exited the nursury.

Feathershine pauses, looking over at the waiting tom. Her mouth is filled with blood-soaked cobwebs and partially chewed comfrey leaves, but her dark amber eyes are filled with light. She nods at the warrior, twitches her tail in the direction of the den she just left, and continues on her way.

Barkclaw needs no other invitation. In moments, he is ducking through the briars that form the den and slipping inside. Instantly, his nose is assaulted with the scents of fresh blood, mothers milk, and herbs. It mingles together to form an odd, heady scent. Something not quite detestable but far from enjoyable.

There is only one queen in ThunderClan at the moment, and she is sprawled out in a partially clean nest. Her light torteishell fur is ruffled, sticking up in clumps and at odd angles, and her eyes are only partially open. They are hazed slightly, and he cannot help but give a happy purr as he pads closer to her.

Curled up at her mostly white stomach are three beautiful kits. One is a carbon copy of her mother, with pale fur and splotches of ginger and cream. The largest, a tom, has dark brown fur like his father, though is lacking the tabby striping. Then there is the third kit, female, who is the palest shade of brown there is with barely there stripes.

A tabby, just like Barkclaw.

"They're amazing..." he whispers, leaning close.

Lightstep gives a groggy purr of agreement. "Aren't they? The tom...He's the most active."

Indeed, the large kit is still wriggling about by his mother. Large paws bat at things he cannot see as he struggles to find a nipple, already hungry for her milk. Barkclaw nudges him closer to the she-cat with his nose, then sits back on his haunches to watch them.

There are several moments of silence, both parents completely enraptured by the young cats before them. Lives that they created and, now, are responsible for. A daunting task, surely, like nothing else in the world. Different from any other fight, any other job, any other battle. Harder too, Barkclaw notes, but so very, very worth it.

"They need names." Lightstep tells him, and her voice is heavy with sleep. But her dark green eyes are shining, filled with a warmth he has never before seen on his quiet mate.

He nods in agreement. "What were you thinking of?"

"The tom...We should name him Mudkit." Lightstep says. "He looks just like your brother, doesn't he?"

And he does, though that thought didn't occur to him at first. Mudstreak, who only recently passed away from disease, looks just like their kit. Large, solid colored, and active. "It fits perfectly."

"And this one..." she gently rests her tail on the back of the pale-furred she-cat, the one that looks just like her. "Can we name her Leafkit?"

"For your mother?" Barkclaw asks gently, and his mate nods. "Of course we can. You know how much I loved Ivyleaf. She was a brave cat, and I think that our kit would be honoured to share a part of her name."

Lightstep lets out a purr, the loud rumble disturbing the still unnamed kit. She lets out a squeak and swings her head wildly for a moment, then returns to searching for food.

"You can name the last one, Barkclaw." she says softly.

Barkclaw purrs, watching the small kit for a moment. So innocent looking, still untouched by the horrors of the world. Unaware that, outside of the nursury, there lays a world of constant battle and blood-shed.

She's pure and, one day, he knows she will become a grand warrior.

So, with pride, he dubs her Rowankit.

-x-x-x-x-

"Mudkit! Get back here!" Lightstep calls, swishing her tail in irritation.

The two she-kits still curled in her nest let out amused mews as their brother, half-way to the exit of the nursury, freezes in his tracks. He lowers his head, tail dragging the ground, and turns back around to face his mother.

"But Momma, why can't I go out?" he asks, voice nothing more than a whine.

His mother flicks her ears at him, eyes narrowing slightly. "I've told you already, Mudkit. You aren't old enough to go outside yet. Now come get back in the nest with your sisters."

"But -"

"Now, Mudkit." Lightstep says, voice stern.

With a sigh, her son drops his head even further and slinks back to the nest of moss and leaves.

-x-x-x-x-

"Hey, Momma?" Leafkit asks one day, neck craning as she tries to get a glimpse of the outside world. She is allowed close to the exit now, but setting so much as a whisker outside would be unthinkable.

Her mother is very protective, or so Leafkit once heard Stormstar say. She isn't sure what that means yet, but she assumes it has something to do with why they haven't been let out of the nursury yet.

Carefully, Lightstep untangles herself from her nest. Mudkit squirms about for a moment and she freezes, terrified that she's woken him up, only to let out a relieves sigh when he once more stills. Rowankit, she knows, could sleep through anything.

The pale-furred queen waits until she is standing beside her other kit to speak, leery of waking up her son. "Yes, Leafkit?"

"Why doesn't Feathershine leave the camp as often as the other cats?" she questions, tilting her head to look up at the taller female.

Lightstep blinks, then purrs and settles down beside her daughter. "Well, Feathershine isn't a warrior like the other cats are."

"She isn't?" asks Leafkit, and her voice shows just how amazed she is to hear that.

"No, she isn't." Lightstep explains. "Feathershine is our medicine cat. That means that, if someone gets sick or hurt, she can help them get better."

Suddenly, Leafkit springs to her paws. She prances from foot to foot, ears pricked foreward and light green eyes shining. "That is so cool!"

-x-x-x-x-

"No way!" Rowankit protests, fur bristling at her brother. "That's a lie!"

"It is not!" Mudkit counters. His own fur is standing on end, ears flat against his head. He is almost twice the size of his sister by now, who has grown lithe and slender but not much bigger.

"What's going on here?" Lightstep asks, padding back into the nursury. She drops the vole that she was carrying at her paws, eyes raking over the two bickering siblings.

She doesn't understand it. Leafkit is such a gentle thing, but her two siblings? They are always fighting. Always shouting. Acting as though they're enemies, not kin. It's upsetting, really, because Lightstep has always tried hard to give each kit the same amount of attention.

Never slight one for the other, that's what she has lived by.

At her entrance, both kits leap away from each other. They spin around to face her, eyes wide and fur still fluffed, but now there is shame in their gazes and not just anger.

"She's a liar!"

"He's a liar!"

They both shout it at the same time, casting the other one a nasty look. From their nest Leafkit just shakes her head, unable to understand why something as silly as a play-fight could send her siblings into such a tizzy.

"I asked what's going on." Lightspark repeats, voice showing her displeasure.

Rowankit bows her head first, letting out a soft mew of apology. "Sorry, Momma. But Mudkit's lieing!"

"I am not!" Mudkit bursts out, swinging around to face his sister once more. "You're the liar!"

Rowankit lets out a yowl of anger, then springs at her brother. She slams into his side, knocking him over, and tries to swat his head. He yowls out, paws flailing as he tries to get her off of him.

Tail lashing in irritation, Lightstep crosses the den in just a few steps. She easily bats the two kits apart, then gaves them both an angry glare.

"To the nest, both of you." she orders.

-x-x-x-x-

Leafkit gets her ceremony first - and, when she bounds over to Feathershine and recieves her apprentice name, Lightstep decides that she has never been so proud.

Her little girl, now six moons old, has decided to become a medicine cat. To serve her Clan from behind the battles, keeping them all well and healthy. Not a path that every cat can take, she knows, and that does make her proud.

More than that? She's relieved. The life of a warrior is a dangerous one, and that is a fact she knows all too well. If she could, she would just ask for all three of her kits to be mentored by Feathershine.

Just so that she knew, no matter what fights took place, they would always be safe from harm.

-x-x-x-x-

Mudkit and Rowankit recieve their mentors on the same day, much to their displeasure. Lightstep spends the entire morning grooming them, cleaning them, making their pelts shine.

Mudkit protests, Rowankit is too excited to day much of anything.

Their mother? She is silent, just like her daughter. But her words are not stilted due to excitement. No, they are trapped in her throat because she is afraid.

Afraid - that her two kits who have chosen the path of a warrior will get hurt.

Afraid - that, now that they are gone from her nest, they will forget about her.

Afraid - that her protection will not be able to reach the entire lengths of the forest.

She says none of this though. Grooms the two of them in silence, ignores her sons protests, and then walks them out to the gathered crowd. Her mate joins her half-way there, and the four ThunderClan cats take a seat at the fron of the crowd. A parent on either side, two kits in the middle.

Just like it should be.

-x-x-x-x-

The first night back in the warriors den is a hard one. Yes, she has Barkclaw to curl up with, but it isn't the same as having her kits at her side. Mudpaw doesn't come bounding over to her, requesting a story. Rowanpaw does not insist that she sleep on the opposite side of the nest from her brother. Leafpaw, whose absence is still felt just as strongly, does not come to her with a question about the inner-workings of the Clan.

It is silent.

Silent.

Her mind is not.

Over and over again, she tells herself not to worry. That she's being silly, thinking a mentor would ever do something to an apprentice. But Nightfang has been so cruel since she turned him down, choosing Barkclaw instead, and Rowanpaw is still so young...So untouched...Innocent.

She may have her mate by her side, but Lightstep still longs for her kits.

-x-x-x-x-

She sees it instantly. Before anyone else even registers that the patrol has come back, she sees them. And she sees the large, red scratch that runs from her son's left eye to his nose.

"Mudpaw!" she yelps, pushing herself to her paws. Beside her, Roselight jumps, knocking the piece of prey they had been sharing askew.

The former queen flings herself across the clearing, skidding to a stop by the patrol. Well-versed in the ways of queens, kits, and first injuries, Stormstar merely continues on his way into the camp.

"Mom, get off of me!" cries Mudpaw, trying to back away from the frantic she-cat. "It's just a scratch, I'm fine!"

"A scratch?" Lightstep demands, an almost frantic tone to her voice. "You have more than a scratch, Mudpaw! What happened? No, don't tell me. Just go see Feathershine and your sister."

-x-x-x-x-

She hears them, even when they try to keep it quiet. Crouched together late at night, two sisters sharing a piece of prey. Nothing odd about it. Nothing warranting attention - except for the conversation that is repeated, time and time again.

"You need to be careful, Rowanpaw." insists Leafpaw, light green eyes shining with worry. "You could get really hurt."

"I'm fine, Leafpaw." her sister answers with a sigh. She takes a bite of mouse, then pushes it towards the patched she-cat. "They're just scratches. No big deal."

And, with just those few sentences, it could be brushed aside. Just a sister worried about her warrior-sibling. Asking her not to end up under her care, because that's what all siblings do.

Then Leafpaw speaks again, and Lightstep's blood runs cold.

"No big deal? How can you say that?!" Leafpaw demands, voice raising just a tad. "He'll kill you if he keeps it up!"

Rowanpaw lets out an angry hiss, jumping away from her sister. "I can handle myself, Leafpaw."

And then she leaves and Leafpaw looks so lost and Lightstep can't find her mate anywhere - so she takes things into her own paws, just like any mother would.

-x-x-x-x-

Lightstep corners him early the next morning. Just outside of the camp, only a fox-length from the fern tunnel that leads into the camp. He is backed against a tree before he knows what's going on, her tail lashing angrily behind her.

And, oh, he knows why she's there. She can see it in his eyes - amusement, annoyance, and maybe just a tinge of unease.

Not enough unease, though.

"How dare you!" she growls, ears flat against her skull. "How dare you harm her!"

"How dare I?" Nightfang questions, and he sounds so sure of himself that it's sickening. "How dare I what, Lightstep? Train your fox-dung of a daughter? That's what I'm supposed to do, in case you haven't noticed. It's not my fault she isn't quick enough to dodge right."

With a snarl, Lightstep lounges at the larger warrior. Her fangs sink into his shoulder, blood and fur filling her mouth. The tom yowls and struggles, trying to shake her free - but to no avail. Lightstep doesn't let go until she's _ready_ to let go. When she does release her hold on Nightfang, it is accompanied by a swipe at his face that misses on purpose and another hiss.

"You listen to me closely, Nightfang." she says, and her voice is deep and threatening. "My kit has done nothing to you. She knows _nothing_ about you. And if I _ever_ hear that you have hurt her again, I _will_ kill you. StarClan forgotten, you shall die at my claws."

Lightstep doesn't wait for a response before turning around and bolting into the underbrush, the tang of blood still heavy in her mouth.

-x-x-x-x-

Rowanpaw doesn't complain to her sister when they share prey, after that. In fact, she is suddenly brimming with tales of of how her training is going. Trips and moves and practices that, suddenly, Nightfang has decided to show her.

Lightstep listens from a few tail-lengths away, a gentle purr rumbling from her throat. Her kits may not share a nest with her anymore but that doesn't mean that she can't, or won't, protect them with everything she has.

So long as she lives, she will do her best to keep them safe.

-x-x-x-x-

_Headstrong_.

That's what Crowflight has dubbed Mudpaw. Headstrong and fiesty, which could be a good thing but, in Lightstep's mind, is only a bad thing. After all, cats who are headstrong don't often think things through before taking action.

And, when a warrior acts without thinking, then they are faced with disastrous consequences.

So she watches her son and she worries. When he leaves the camp, her chest is filled with unease. When he comes home, limping or bleeding or so tired he can barely make it to his den, she wonders if there is anything she can do to help him.

For all the time she spends thinking about it, she can come up with no answers.

-x-x-x-x-

Five moons after gaining his apprentice name, Mudpaw is selected to go on a boarder patrol. It's just a simple thing, to check out the scents near Four Trees. His mentor, Crowflight, is going with him. So is Swallowstrike and Applepetal.

A quick patrol - but sunhigh comes and passes and there is no sign of them. She starts to worry.

"Stormstar?" she asks, padding towards his den. "Are you here?"

"Of course I am." he answers, voice welcoming. "Come right in, Lightstep."

The pale she-cat pushes her way through the lichen draped over the entrance of his den. She pauses just inside, heart fluttering nervously, and shifts from paw to paw.

"What is it, Lightstep?" Stormstar asks. He knows his warriors and, though the pale cat before him is known for worrying, especially when kin is involved, he also trusts her instincts. She hasn't led him wrong yet.

That is why, when she quietly explains that she _knows_ something has gone wrong with the patrol, he gathers a group of cats together and heads out. Doesn't hesitate - but also doesn't bring her with him.

-x-x-x-x-

"Where is he?" she demands, bursting into Feathershine's den. "Where is my kit?"

The aging silver she-cat doesn't move from where she's crouched, a wad of cobwebs around her tail. Her eyes are narrowed in concetration - and, beneath her scrutinous gaze, lays none other than Mudpaw.

A long gash runs from his shoulder to flank, open and bloody, and his pelt has been ripped to shreads. His left hindleg is held at an odd angle, as though it is being forcefully stretched straight. One ear has been shredded, frayed pieces of flesh plastered agains the side of his skull.

Someone starts to wail, and a pale head pops out of the lichen in the back. This face, the one of her daughter, is tainted with another cats blood, a bundle of herbs clamped between her jaws. Cream ears are plastered to her head and her eyes are wide, staring.

It isn't until Stormstar has burst into the den, hackles raised in distress, that she realizes the awful noise is coming from her own maw. The funny thing is that Lightstep cannot seem to make it stop.

-x-x-x-x-

"I have called our Clan here today for a very important announcement." Stormstar says, and his normally serious gaze holds a warmth and excitement today. "Two of our apprentices have proven themselves worthy of recieving their warrior names!"

Around Lightstep, the Clan cries out in excitement. But the pale furred queen merely crouches at the foot of the High Rock and watches, fear swimming in her heart.

"One moon ago, a border patrol had a run-in with a family of foxes. Sadly, Applepetal did not live through the battle." he pauses for a moment, allowing the cats around him a moment to remember the desceased she-cat, then turns his gaze onto the dark furred tom beneath him. "But Mudpaw was there, helping the two remaining warriors fight off the intruders! Due to his bravery and determination in that fight, I give him the name of Mudstorm! May our warrior ancestors watch over him for moons to come!"

There's a moment after that when anything said would be drowned out. Every cat in the clearing yowls out the new name, heads thrown back and maws turned towards the sky. Mudstorm, her once-upon-a-time kit, stands proud in front of them.

Two goals accomplished at once - he's a warrior _and_ he has finally bested his sister, who watches from a distance with scorn in her eyes.

Despite the fact that she should be cheering for her son, Lightstep cannot seem to make her mouth work. It's a difficult enough challenge to keep her breath from stopping in her throat and strangling her.

Dark green eyes trace every scar on the young tom's body. Every spot where the fur has been stripped bare, where the skin is still red and twisted, and where her son has forever been marred.

_Failure_, she thinks to herself,_ I'm such a failure_.

Lightstep is so caught up scanning her son's worn body that she misses the speech Feathershine gives. She doesn't, however, miss the name her young kit recieves.

_Leafpatch_.

This one? This one she can cheer for, though her voice is stilted and her words muted, heart and soul weighed down by the feeling of loss.

-x-x-x-x-

Lightstep thought that, when Mudstorm became a warrior, it was he she would be worrying about the most. She quickly discovers that thought is wrong, very wrong.

Rowanpaw seems determined to find some way to best her brother. To prove that she's just as capable a warrior as he is. So every chance she gets, she leaves the camp. Sometimes, she's gone the entire day. Sometimes, it's just a few moments.

But each time, her mother worries.

Each time, she can look at her daughter and know that something is wrong.

Each time, Lightstep must tell herself that she cannot fail her daughter like she failed her son.

-x-x-x-x-

She tries so hard to keep them safe, but there are three of them and only one of her. Lightstep is pulled in too many directions at once, with too many duties that she _has_ to perform, too many cats she has to protect.

Her Clan comes first, or so everyone tells her. The Clan as a whole, not just her kits. And Stormstar does not tolerate the fact that, even after so many moons, she is still preoccupied over her kits.

"It's one thing to worry when they first leave the nest," he tells her, "but this is bordering on ridiculous."

And, oh, Lightstep just wants to yolw at him about how terribly wrong he is. She is their mother, the one cat responsible for protecting them always, and she's being told that she can't! How is that fair? How is that right? How can she stop listening to that dreaful pounding in her chest telling her that, even now, when everything looks peaceful, her kits are in danger?

She decides that she can't.

-x-x-x-x-

Lightstep is watching Rowanpaw one day when it happens. Feathershine coming up to her, that is, with a worried look shining in her usually calm eyes. The medicine cat is not known for speaking out often, and that's why she has the former queen's attention so quickly.

Anything that the medicine cat says is important.

"Lightstep, Lightstep you have to find her." says Feathershine, and there's a note of panic in her voice. "You have to find her before it's too late!"

"Find who, Feathershine?" meows Lightstep, but she's already rising to her paws, hackles raised in fear. "What's going on?"

"Your daughter! You have to find Leafpatch!" Feathershine says, and her eyes are wild now, unpredictable. "She's been gone all morning and even though StarClan hasn't said anything, I know that something's wrong! Nightfang, he's gone too."

And she has no chance to say anything else, because Lightstep is already streaking from the camp.

-x-x-x-x-

Leafpatch looks just like her mother. The same pale fur -

_and there's blood, so much blood, and she isn't moving_

- the same dark green eyes -

_and they're empty now and hollow, like everything has just been stripped away _-

- and the same determination for life. And all of that is gone now, taken away just like her innocence has been taken. Stolen by Nightfang and, oh, that traitorous tom is gone, gone, gone! Nowhere to be found but his scent is everywhere; in the trees, the brush, and all over her kits tattered pelt.

"It's okay now Leafpatch." whispers Lightstep, crouching down beside her trembling kit. "Your mother is here now. You're safe."

-x-x-x-x-

When Lightstep returns to camp, she is carrying Leafpatch by the scruff just like she used to so many moons ago when she misbehaved. The entire Clan seems to freeze - and then they are all moving, like wasps buzzing about her, trying to take her kit from her and Lightstep refuses.

Even when her mate comes over to her, begging her to step away from Feathershine's den and get some rest, she says nothing. Does nothing. Just crouches there and stares at the back of the den, where her kit was taken too.

That is where she falls asleep.

-x-x-x-x-

When Lightstep wakes up, she is in a forest. The stars shine above her and there are cats all around her, hundreds of them, thousands of them, with stars in their pelts and grief in their eyes. One cat, with a pale ginger tone to his silver pelt, steps forward.

"Lightstep." he says, and his voice is grave and apologetic.

"You. You're Firestar?" asks Lightstep, and when he nods she flattens her ears against her skull. She is in StarClan, she knows, and she should be bowing down to her ancestors.

She can feel nothing but rage towards them.

"I am, and we've called you here to apologize, Lightstep." he says, and there's sympathy in his light green eyes. "We couldn't interfer with Nightfang's actions, but we can punish his actions. When his time comes, he will not be joining us in StarClan."

"Not joining you?" she echoes, her voice painfully soft. Something inside of her snaps then, and the rage comes bellowing out, the fear and the anger and the disgust that has been twisitng about in her stomach, it all comes spilling out then. "Not joining you? That's what you're punishment is? He raped my daughter! He took away her dreams and her life! And all you're going to do is send him away after he dies of, of what? Old age?"

"Lightstep, I understand how you feel." says Firestar. "But we cannot do anything else."

And that is so wrong, so very wrong, that Lightstep cannot even answer to it. Instead, she turns and she runs, as fast and as far as she can.

-x-x-x-x-

Around her, the forest grows darker and Lightstep knows that she has left StarClan behind and entered the Dark Forest. She just doesn't care because these cats, these cats don't have the same inhibitions as her ancestors.

When she finds one, a large thing with sharp claws and amber eyes and a dark pelt, Lightstep offers up everything she has to him. Her life, her heart, her soul; anything that he wants to take, he can have.

The only condition is that he helps her make Nightfang pay.

-x-x-x-x-

It is Stormstar that finds him, laying just outside of the entrance to the camp the morning after the attack. What's left of him, that is. Nightfang is little more than a smear on the forest floor at this point, something that not even the scavangers would want to touch.

Lightstep sits next to him, with blood coating her pelt and hollow eyes, and she tilts her head at her leader when she spots him.

"I had to do it, Stormstar." she says, and her voice is so very empty. "She was my kit. I had to do it."

No one can argue with her over that.


End file.
